I’m pacing myself for the season finale, so I’m not drinking this episode, but next week I’m getting blitzed. Oh. I guess that’s not ‘pacing.’
Archives for February 2010
You know what I hate to admit? I kinda dig the Celebrity Fit Club theme song. Some nice warm, crunchy guitar there. Good stuff, even though my admission will cost me a few cool points.
I don’t have enough in the tank to drink during this episode, so tonight it’s a very special sober Celebrity Rehab.
This episode starts like every other one: with one British Weights and Measurements Association-certified metric ton of previews. [Continue Reading…]
Baloomp, shuffled the Goompgomp, who walked with a limp. One leg was too big, the other had been lost years ago in a horrible fish jumping accident. The Goompgomps have conical pods for limbs and this one was no exception. Except for his right leg which had been lost years ago in a horrible fish jumping accident.
When last we left Celeb Rehab, Tom Sizemore was soaked from head to toe in sweat. Not normal sweat. The overweight addict kinda sweat. Smells like street tar and vomit.
Not exactly the best season of the show, but it had some special moments. The Ghost Climber in episode 1 is one of them.
Last night, the juicy (well…the somewhat damp) Hollywood Round got underway. Dozens of faces paraded across the stage, some of which we’d seen before (and had probably forgotten), but many of which were new (and were mostly forgettable). We were pleasantly surprised by people who brought their own guitars, Ellen wasn’t annoying, and new contestant Tim Urban gained himself a stalker. I’m not saying it’s me!! Tonight, it’s Group Night. Will there will be drama? Of course. Will there be suckage? Of course. This is American Idol. “I’m normally not a praying man, but if you’re up there, please save me, Superman.”
We’ve waited breathlessly for this moment. Well, maybe we weren’t breathless. And maybe we weren’t really waiting, so much as dreading. But Hollywood Week is upon us, along with a new permanent fourth judge to replace the dearly, departed, deranged, and daffy Miss Paula Abdul. Don’t know who the newbie is? Read a magazine, for crying out loud! I have a friend who doesn’t know who Lady Gaga is. There is no excuse for pop culture illiteracy. I don’t mind if you can’t read, but if you’ve never heard (or heard of) “Poker Face,” we’re gonna have a problem. This is American Idol. “Me fail English? That’s unpossible.”